


Winchester Out of the Nest

by CBFirestarter



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Brothers, Father-Son Relationship, Flashbacks, Gen, Preseason 1
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-18
Updated: 2017-03-18
Packaged: 2018-10-07 08:37:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10356486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CBFirestarter/pseuds/CBFirestarter
Summary: Short story about the night Sam Winchester left his Brother and Dad to go to Stanford. Written from Sam's perspective.





	

Winchester out of the Nest

 

It had really come, he still couldn’t believe it. He must have sat up for hours reading and rereading the acceptance letter trying to tell himself it was real. To top it off, not only had he gotten into Stanford but, he had gotten a full ride! This was the best news of his entire life. If Sam Winchester were a normal person, he would have run to tell his parents the good news, and they would have cried and hugged him and told him how proud they were of him. Sam was not a normal person however, and instead of bragging about his acceptance letter to his dad and brother, he had been hiding it in his duffle bag for 4 weeks now. 

This shouldn’t be so damn hard, he told himself sitting in the dimly lit dusty room. The life of a Hunter consisted of poor living conditions, normally in the form of shady motel rooms. On this night, however, they were squatting in an old, condemned, ramshackle house ‘cause there were no motels that far in the middle of nowhere. Sam had finally gotten used to the musty smell and he had, sadly, stayed in worse. His brother, Dean, had lent him his duffle to use as a make-shift pillow since he was the one sleeping on the ground. Sam was too damn tall to fit on the old ass couch anyway and even Dean’s knees were cramping from it the night before. 

He had one more hour, at best, before Dean and his father, John, came back. They were out finishing up the hunt, a “milk run” as Dean called it. It had been a pretty run of the mill ghost hunt, and Sam had spent hours earlier in the day researching old newspaper articles and finding out where the ghost was buried. Sam gave them the cemetery information and hadn’t gotten so much as a thank you, but then again he never did, not from his old man. He did however get a smack on the back and a, “Good job, Sammy!” from his brother. John and Dean were digging up the grave that very minute, salting and burning the body. Sam had faked a stomach bug to get out of going with them. It had taken 30 minutes of fighting with his father to finally convince him he wasn’t up to going and would only slow them down. 

To be honest, he had truly felt sick to his stomach all night thinking about what was to come so it wasn’t all a lie. He had just needed a few hours to himself to finalize everything. He had picked up a beater of an old Corolla from a local mechanic for a few hundred bucks and he hoped it would be able to get him to California. He made a point to buy the car not steal it. He packed his duffel bag and stowed it in the car which didn’t take long because he didn’t own much. A life on the road didn’t lend itself to the collection of personal possessions. He took his gun, his favorite knife, holy water and some salt just because he would feel naked without it. Even though he was leaving that life behind him, he still knew about all the things that go bump in the night. 

None of the monsters, none of the ghosts, not even clowns scared him so much as the thought of facing his father tonight. He had almost chickened out a few times already, considered bolting and just leaving a note. If it hadn’t been for Dean, that’s probably exactly what he would have done. Dean deserved better though - an explanation. He was pacing in the candlelight of the room now, the battery had run out on his lantern as it usually did when he spent late nights up reading. He thought he was going to go crazy waiting around, so he snatched up his cell phone to call Bobby. Thankfully, Bobby answered on the second ring. 

“Hey boy, do you know how late it is? I do need my beauty sleep ya know,” Bobby sounded wide awake though and Sam chuckled.

“Not enough sleep in the world for that, Bobby.”

“Don’t give me lip, boy! Now I am sure you didn’t just call for shits and giggles,” Bobby had on his fatherly tone now and Sam hesitated a moment. “Well, spit it out, son.”

“I got into Stanford, and I got a full ride too, pre-law,” he spit it out fast and almost winced, waiting for his reaction.

“Hot damn, that’s real impressive, Sam. I’m proud of you!” Sam let out the breath he had been holding and a sigh of relief. 

“Thanks Bobby, I finally got my way out, but…” Sam trailed off a moment.

“You haven’t told your dad or Dean yet, have you?” Bobby’s voice was more sympathetic now. 

“I am telling them tonight. I have a car and some cash and orientation isn’t for a few weeks, so I should have time to find a place,” he knew he was rambling again. “They are going to be pissed though, aren’t they?” Sam asked without really wanting to hear the answer. 

“Angrier then a demon in a devil's trap I’d say. You’re in for a big fight, Sam.”

“Yeah I know, but I gotta do this Bobby, they have to understand,” Sam sounded desperate, even to himself now. “I mean I know chances of Dad understanding are slim to none but Dean… he just has to understand why.”

“You don’t have a snowball's chance in hell of convincing John you should go to school, and you might find Dean a pretty hard sell but not for the same reasons,” Bobby’s voice was calm and firm. 

“So you think I should scrap the whole plan? Turn down the scholarship?” Sam felt a huge weight settle in on his chest at the thought.

“Hell no!” Bobby exclaimed taking Sam back, “Look, Sam, now you listen to me, if you have a way out you take it and run. Going to college is the smartest thing you could do. All I’m sayin’ is, don’t expect them to see it that way. You just have to be ready for the fall out. Make sure that what you’re gettin’ is worth what you’re givin’ up.” Sam thought on that for a moment and knew Bobby was right, he had to do this, even if it hurt. 

“Thanks, Bobby. I think I hear the Impala coming. Wish me luck,” Sam gave a nervous chuckle as headlights streamed through the boarded up windows. 

“Just remember to block with your left, ya idjit.”

“Bye, Bobby,” Sam clicked the phone and took a long deep breath as he heard the footsteps stomping up the porch. Shit!

John came in first, with Dean trailing behind him, looking exhausted and covered in dirt. Had that asshole made Dean dig the whole grave by himself? Sam tried hard to stay cool and not grit his teeth. John looked about the room, anywhere but at Sam. It was like he could smell the fight coming. 

“How’d it go?” Sam asked, looking at Dean, but it was John who replied. 

“Would have been a hell of a lot easier if you weren’t too ‘sick’ to come along. Feeling better I see,” John was not happy. Great that was just what he needed an already angry dad. 

“We had it covered, Dad. It’s not a problem,” Dean said, giving Sam a small smile before flopping down on the nearest chair. 

“That’s not the point, Son. The monsters don’t stop just because you have a tummy ache. You gotta learn how to fight through the pain and suck it up, Sam, or you’ll never be a good hunter,” John pulled out a flask and took a long draw. That’s just what this situation needs, alcohol… wonderful. It was now or never Sam realized. 

“Well I don’t plan to be a hunter anymore so it won’t matter if I suck at it,” this statement brought the room to stand still. You could have cut the silence with a knife. Sam took a deep breath, staring at his feet like a coward and pulling out the worn acceptance letter from his pocket. He stretched out his hand, giving the paper to his dad who snatched it from his hand. He still couldn’t make eye contact. His heart was in his throat. 

“What the hell is this?” John asked in a low, dangerous voice trying to focus on the piece of paper. He had obviously started drinking at the cemetery because he swayed a little on his feet. 

“I got into Stanford, a full ride too,” He glanced at Dean who had stood up going over to his dad to look at the paper. “I’m leaving tonight. I will check in with you once I get to California,” Sam didn’t want to make that a question.

“You will do no such thing,” John said in such a low voice, Sam almost didn’t hear him. 

“I am eighteen now, Dad, and I am making this choice for myself,” Sam stood tall now puffing out his chest a bit, looking his dad right in the eye now. 

“After all we’ve done for you! You’re just going to abandon your family!” John was getting geared up now. Dean put a hand on his father’s chest as he moved toward Sam but John shoved Dean aside. “Stay out of this, Dean!” John’s eyes were full of rage and it took all of Sam’s courage not to take a step back. It helped that he was taller than his dad now. 

“I am not abandoning anyone, I am giving up hunting not my family,” Sam looked at Dean for some kind of support but his face was blank and his jaw was clenched as he stared at the floor.

“Hunting is what we do in this family, Sam! Or have you forgotten that? We need each other, we depend on each other for survival out there. You know what is out there, are you really just gonna turn your back on that!” John was right in front of him now. 

“We aren’t in a goddamn war! I just want to go to school and lead a normal life!” Sam was shooting back now.

“Easy. Sammy, come on. You don’t really mean that. He doesn’t really mean it, Dad. He’s a hunter through and through,” Dean had a hand up on their father’s chest again, and gave Sam’s shoulder a little shake.

“I’m sorry, Dean, but I’m not a hunter, at least I don’t want to be anymore. Please try to understand,” this was the part he dreaded, the look in Dean’s eyes. 

“I’m not paying for it! Not a dime, you hear me!” John growled at him.

“I don’t need your goddamn stolen money anyway!” Sam didn’t see it coming. He should have listened to Bobby and kept his guard up. The blow hit him square on the cheek, knocking him to the ground and banging his head against the couch. He looked up to see Dean and John scuffling. Dean holding John back while he spouted obscenities. If John hadn’t been drunk, Dean probably couldn’t have held him back. Then again if he wasn’t drunk, he probably wouldn’t have socked Sam like that. He slowly got to his feet, knowing for certain now it was over. Sam moved to walk around them towards the door.

“If you walk out that door … don’t you ever come back,” John had stopped struggling and just looked at Sam dead in the eye. Sam looked at his father and what he saw there was a lot of rage but also a tinge of absolute terror. But what on earth John Winchester was afraid of -- Sam had no idea.

“Fine,” Sam turned and walked out the front door, hurrying to the Corolla desperate to get as far away from this shit hole as he could. There were footsteps following him and he whirled around expecting to see John about to drag him back inside. It was Dean, though, running after him.

“Sammy, come on, he didn’t mean it. He drank too much. Let’s go for a ride and you can cool off,” Dean looked at Sam with such hope in his eyes. They both simultaneously winced as they heard a crashing sound coming from the house. By the sound of it, John was rearranging furniture, in a violent manner. 

“Dean, I’m going to Stanford. My mind is made up, alright? And hey you don’t have to stay with him you know, you can leave too,” Sam shouldn’t have been surprised to see confusion in Dean’s eyes. It would have never occurred to Dean to want anything more. All Dean wanted was to be with his family and to hunt some monsters along the way. 

“He’s an asshole, Sammy, but he’s still family, and you don’t just abandon your family,” somehow these words from Dean crushed Sam in a way John’s words never could. He didn’t know what to say to the big brother who had always been there for him - his whole life. Those big green eyes staring at him, pleading with him to stay. Dean wanted the one thing Sam couldn’t give him. 

“I’m sorry, I can’t stay, I just … can’t,” It was a pathetic response and Sam knew it. Dean stepped back from him a few paces. The hurt and anger in his eyes was just too much. 

“Fine then go!” Dean spat through gritted teeth. 

“Don’t be like that Dean, please,” Sam pleaded but Dean crossed his arms his face stone cold now. The crashing sounds in the house stopped and it was quiet on the dark empty street. Sam turned and got in the Corolla trying to control his shaking arms. He rolled down the window, looking up at Dean who hadn’t moved an inch. 

“Just uhhh… call me when you get in alright,” Dean said through a choked voice. Sam’s shoulders relaxed a fraction of an inch.

“I will, I promise,” Sam gave him a small smile which Dean didn’t return. “Bye, Jerk.”

“Bye, Bitch,” Dean grudgingly replied, and with that Sam started the car and sped down the road. He was free! Finally free! But Bobby had been right. Was the cost of freedom too much? As he looked in the rearview mirror at his brother standing in his oversized leather coat, he knew it was going to be okay. No matter what, he would always have Dean, and not even Stanford could change that.


End file.
